Red Ribbons
by Eleanor28
Summary: The boys have been gone for a few days and your getting bad again what will happen when they find out that you self-harm? Read to find out! I am really bad at giving a good synopsis. She may end up with one of the brothers. Always Keep Fighting.
1. Chapter 1

**NO COPYRIGHT INFRIGMENT INTENDED ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS!**

 **Trigger Warning: Self-harm, implied eating disorder**

The Winchesters were out, they had been on a hunt for the past couple of days. You weren't worried though, you had talked to Sam when he had checked in to make sure you were alright and to tell you that they wouldn't be back for another couple of days. They were off in Virginia hunting vampires or something. You had declined from going with them because you felt a though you didn't have the strength. It was like a thick layer of heavy material had been weighing you down the past couple of weeks, making everything so much harder. You had found yourself willingly putting yourself in the line of fire not because you were this hero who wore a halo and saved the day but because you wanted to hurt, you wanted to feel that extraordinary release of pain that you had craved ever since you were 12 and cut yourself for the first time with a broken pencil sharpener. No, you had declined from this misadventure because you were brutally aware of how your self-destructive mind could have repercussion on Dean and Sam, like them getting injured or worse.

You were sitting in the bunker, reclining into the one of the chairs with your legs crossed on the table, you were reading as usual. Your nose deep in the latest instalment of your favourite series. You looked up thinking, suddenly, about how you had lied to Sam earlier when he had asked you how you were you had said the lamest thing "I'm perfectly fine, Sam, nothing to worry about" which of course is an outright lie. Hint: when someone tells you that there is nothing to worry about there is almost defiantly something to worry about. The boys had known something wasn't quite right with you. You didn't laugh as much and your long sleeves were pulled up over your hands as though you were afraid of what lied beneath. Your simile usually light up rooms had become a lacklustre light. You hadn't been sleeping and your diet consisted of cups of tea and can soups. You couldn't even bring yourself to cover up the way you felt anymore you stared into space so more often than not the boys had to repeat things two or three times before you heard them.

You had never stopped cutting, not really, you had just gotten better at hiding it. You had learnt how to self-harm in unmarked ways like standing in scorching hot showers and not eating long enough for the hunger pains to set in. Voices in your head screamed so loudly that you couldn't hear your own logic as it drowned it tortured screams of your depression. You just wanted the voices that told you to hurt yourself to go away. You knew it wasn't healthy, you knew that. For some reason or another it just didn't register in that messed up brain of yours. And you figured why did it matter? You were only hurting yourself right?

Thinking about this had made the urge unbearable, you _had_ to cut now. You hastily got up and ran to your bedroom pulling out a metal tin and pulled of the lid with such strength and desperation your shaky hands dropped the round tin. The tin fell to the ground with a loud crash, spilling out the bloody tissues you had hidden there from last time and the sliver metals blades covered in dried blood were now scattered across the floor. You reach down, slowly, almost as if you are in a trance and you pick up the blade closest to you as you rise you place the blade against your wrist. You have a moment of hesitation, it was like the moment you realised the storm would end.

You quickly press the blade down and scrape it against your skin and you do it again.

And again.

And again.

There is now a flowing stream of red dripping from your wrist your tense shoulders slump in defeat and you breathe heavily but calmly. You watch with some sick form of fascination at the red ribbon coming out your arm. You cut again and a few more times after that indulging in the relief it gave you.

-20 minutes later-

After you had patched yourself up and began to clean up the puddle of scarlet blood on the tile floor it hit you in one four letter word beginning with 's'. The boys would be home in a couple of days and they could always tell when you were lying and they were almost certainly going to figure out what is going on with you. You kept berating yourself until you came up with a plan to avoid that awkward and unnecessary intervention.

 **SAM AND DEAN WILL BE RETURNING SOON I PROMISE MAYBE EVEN CAS!**

 **ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING**

 **;)**

Constructive criticism is wanted and welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**NO COPYRIGHT INFRIGNEMNT INTENDED ALL CHARCTERS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS**

Trigger Warning: Self harm, suggested eating disorder, suggested past traumas

You awoke with a familiar stiffness in your wrist as the bandage constricted around your wrist so tight in order to prevent blood flow. You attempt to loosen the material but end up hissing in pain as you reopened one of the cuts.

You begrudgingly rise out of bed, wrapping your body in your bloodied sheets to keep you warm in your freezing room. The blood loss making your balance off as you lazily stumble to the sink washing your face with ice cold water. When you heard a noise coming from outside your room. Dropping your sheets to the flaw as a wave of uncertainty flew over you. You stood in your pyjama shorts and a sports bra the cold air. The boys weren't due back for another couple days. So what the fuck was that noise? You think and in your dazed state you struggle to pick up your gun that Dean had given you on your 19th birthday.

After you had gotten good grip on your gun. You headed towards the door waiting to hear another sound before heading out. It sounded like someone was knocking over books in the library. The books you had used as a scape goat to get out of going on this hunt, when in reality you were just too depressed to leave your room. You were supposed to it tidy up. You grabbed a navy fleece so worn in it looked grey and slipped it on. As you headed that way you kept your gun level, as level as you could do.

Your hands, you had noticed were shaking. You had never hunted by yourself, you had never been without the boy. They had been knights in shining armour to you. They had trained you, taken you in, fed and clothed you since you were 15. Sam with his unending knowledge and research skills was desperate to make you as interested in what Dean would call "nerdy stuff". He had helped with online high school and encouraged you to enrol in an online college which you know attended. But it had been safe, boring yes but ultimately safe and that was good as you knew all too well what happen if you didn't stay safe. Dean had taken you to shooting ranges whenever he could and when there were none in the cases area he would take you to a field and shoot empty cans of beer off fences. Dean taught you self-defence, taught you how to feel safe in a world at war with demons.

You had made it to just outside the library when you heard Deans voice. They had gotten back early.

"Nice going jackass, do you want to wake the whole neighbourhood?"

"Not – my – fault –"Sam whispered back aggressively "y/n said she stayed behind to tidy the books up. That's what she made such a big fuss about"

"Well she did a crap job" dean said, leaning down to pick up the books Sam had knocked over.

"Somethings wrong with her, why would she lie about not coming with us"

"It sounds like a question for y/n" retorted Dean

You chose this moment to make yourselves known, lowering your gun and painting a fake smile on your face. "Hey honeys"

"hey y/n"

"You're home early"

The boys looked at each other in confusion before looking back at you with concern. Sam spoke up "Y/N we have been gone for 6 days, its Wednesday technically we are late home. Are you okay?"

"Yeah I've just been sleeping. I must have just lost track of time that's all"

"Well we finished the hunt and when you didn't pick up the phone for the millionth time we decided to head back pronto to check on you and to make sure you were all right"

"I am" you said annoyance lacing your voice. Dean looked at you with those green eyes as though he saw right through your act.

"I'm starving" Dean stated, abruptly changing the subject "what do we have?"

HALF AN HOUR LATER

Dean is knelt down in front of the cabinets trying to find ingredients for those killer burgers he makes.

"Hey Y/N, while we were away did you eat anything?"

"Yeah"

"Just that our food looks untouched"

A wave of panic flowed though you as your mind tried to grasp at an answer that wouldn't cause worry. A lie. "Well I got takeout"

"Everyday?" Sam said disapprovingly

"What?" you said suddenly becoming defensive over your lie "I just pigged out while you guys were away its no biggie".

"Huh" Dean said, clearly not buying your story.

"Hey Y/N, where is my Game of Thrones book" said Sam.

"In my room you can go get it if you want to" I said flippantly.

Sam leaves the room saying he will be back in a minute as Dean goes to put the wrapper for the burgers in the bin. The bin with no empty containers from all the meals you had lied about eating.

"Y/N where are all your leftovers? Where are all the container from you 'pigging out'?" he said aggressively turning around to face you and making quotation marks. His face stern but his eyes swimming with concern.

Just fucking great.

In that moment Sam came striding in holding your bloodied sheets, eyes pooling with tear ready to fall "What the hell is this Y/N?"

Always Keep Fighting and remember You Are Not Alone

WRITE ME


	3. Chapter 3

**NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED AL CHARCTERS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIE OWNERS**

 _Last time…_

 _Sam came striding in, holding your bloody sheets, his eyes pooling with tears. "What the hell is this Y/N?"_

Dean turned around, his eyes widening when he saw the bloodied sheets. "Y/N?"

"It's nothing" I said quickly "I'm on my period, I leaked, it happens"

"You don't bleed this much on your period" retorted Sam.

"Do you care explain why there are no leftovers of that fast food you had while you're at it? No containers? And don't say you emptied the trash because it's you and I pretty sure you don't even know where the trash chute is" Dean said his anger rising.

"My period made me feel sick so I didn't want to eat, I lied so that you wouldn't worry about me. I'm fine"

"Like hell you are, let's see your arms"

I hid my cut up arm behind my back an action which did not go unnoticed by wither of the men standing before me. Sam sighed heaily "Y/N, show me your arms"

Crap

"No" I said meekly, taking a step back hitting into the table, I was stuck. I had nowhere to run. They were going to find out my secret, they were never going to look at me the same way.

At that moment my eyes fell on the open doorway, not the best plan in the world, but in my blind panic I couldn't think straight. I needed to get away from the stillness in the room, the heavy unavoidable conversation that would leave me, broken, in tears and alone.

As I made my run for it, Sam who had been quite since his question earlier grabbed me wrapping his warm arms around my waist tugging my back with such forced I was lifted off the ground his hard chest tightly pressed against my back. "Dean" Sam said, his voice strained as he gave a silent demand to Dean. Who appeared in front of me gently grasping my wrist, pulling up my sleeves to reveal the white bandages with red spots seeping through the fabric Dean looked up at me with his bright green eyes that shone bright as he gave me a painful stare.

Deans calloused fingers unwrapped the thick layer of bandages to show my marred skin covered in fresh cuts from the day before some deep enough I had to use medical tape to hold two sides of the flesh together to help prevent blood loss, others merely scratches. Not that deepness mattered, self-harm was self-harm no matter the amount of blood loss.

The striking contrast between my skin and the now leaking cuts made my knees give out, Sam caught me gently helping me to the ground where he pulled me tightly against his chest, before whispering "Oh Y/N, what have you done?"

Dean looked horrified as though his worst fears had come to life He looked at me as I always feared he would if he ever found out. He looked at me as though I was a broken doll, I was no longer the happy, resilient, go lucky girl he had first met. Despite the despair in his eyes when he spoke his voice was laced with anger.

"DAMMIT Y/N" he stood up picking up an empty bottle of beer and throwing it across the kitchen, the loud smash it made startled me.

At his outbreak sobs racked through me, my body began to shake and I turned my face away from Dean, too ashamed to look at him. I buried my face in Sam, as his hand rose from my back to the back of my neck, in tune with what I was going through

"DEAN" Sam said loudly "stop you're scaring her"

"STOP? SHE'S THE ONE CUTTING HERSELF TO SHREDS AND YOU'RE TELLING ME TO STOP?" he yelled before laughing without humour for a second shaking his head.

"You yelling isn't going to help anyone. Go away and calm down." Sam said sternly.

Dean gave an angry glare and looked like he was about to argue but left the kitchen slamming the door behind him.

"Hey Y/N" Sam whispered pulling head back "let's get you cleaned up, ok?"

I nodded. He picked my up and sat me on the island counter, gently taking hold of my bleeding wrist.

"I suspected you had been cutting since I saw some blood a pile of laundry of yours, a couple of months ago, I didn't want to bring it up without being a 100% sure" Sam said as he began to clean the wounds and rewrap them with bandages. When Y/N didn't answer he continued. "You know Dean isn't angry at you, he is angry at himself for not noticing the signs sooner, for not helping you when you needed it most"

"I don't need help"

"Look at your wrist Y/N, you clearly aren't ok, talking about it can help"

"Talking doesn't do shit."

"Y/N..." Sam began to argue back as he finished wrapping the cuts.

"No, talking about it makes this worse. It doesn't change the way I feel, it doesn't make the past go away, it does not fix things, I thought you would understand that Sam"

"I understand how you must feel, I've felt that way too but I talked about it and I got better, you can too"

After a moment of silence Sam said "Look I wish you didn't do it you know that but I get it, I do" I looked away but he grabbed my chin pulling my face up so it was level with his. "But you have to understand, that you have to stop now, we can help if you let us."

"But I don't want to stop"  
Sam flinched "You don't mean that Y/N"

"Yeah I think I do"

 **THE END OF THE CHAPTER – WILL Y/N ACCEPT HELP OR IS Y/N CONTENT IN SELF DESTRUCTION**

Do you want Y/N to get with Sam or Dean or neither?

YOUR FEEDBACK/COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRICATED XD

Always Keep Fighting and remember that You Are Not Alone


	4. Chapter 4

**NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE OWNERS**

 _Trigger Warning – graphic self-harm, mentions of eating disorder and past physical abuse as well as death of loved ones._

20 minutes later and I was still sitting on the counter in the kitchen, staring at the broken shards of glass from the bottle Dean had shamed earlier. Sam was wrong, was all I could think about, talking about my 'problems' wouldn't solve them. Talking about it didn't change the past. It didn't change the pain of losing my sister, losing my father, how my mother treated me in those months afterward. Talking didn't bring justice to what happened to me on those nights when I forced to sleep on the streets.

Words change nothing. They never had.

Dean knocked before poking his head around the door, his apple green eyes flicked quickly to Sam then settled on me. "Hey kiddo"

I gave a weak smile turning my body towards him letting him

"Look I came to say sorry for yelling earlier and smashing…" his voice died out. "I'm not angry at you, I'm angry at me. I should have noticed that you always cover your arms and you never eat unless we force you to" tears were once again pooling in his eyes.

I gave him a puzzled look. "Why are you mad at yourself? That literally makes no sense"

"I should have noticed sooner, I should have stopped it, nipped the poison in the bud and all that."

"I'm doing it to myself, it has nothing to do with you, I have been doing it for year before I even met you. Besides, I wouldn't have stopped even if you had noticed"

"But you're going to stop now right? I mean we know now, this has to change, it's too dangerous. I mean the cuts could get infected or god forbid you cut into a vein. You could die Y/N!"

"I know that Dean" I looked down at my wrist, I wanted to cut now, fighting down the urge I said "I'm not an idiot.".

Sam who had been chillingly silent since my confession whispered "I don't think she cares"

Dean stared at his brother is disbelief his eyes filled with pain and hopelessness that almost mimicked my own. Dean pulled out a chair from the table and set it down in front of where I was on the counter and he sat on it. Pulling my chin up so I could no longer stare at my wrists, imagining the pain I would experience in cutting and the sick pleasure it brought me. The intensity of eye contact was too much as my anxiety peaked but his hand didn't moved from my chin, his strength preventing me from turning my head away.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you come to us instead of doing this to yourself" he said his fingers brushing the bandage on my wrist.

"I didn't think it was a problem in and of itself and definitely not something you should have concerned yourself with"

He let go of my chin to run his hand of his hair in exasperation "Jeez, Y/N! I care about you, you're like a sister to me. Anything that is causing you pain is my business"

I looked anyway, going back to focusing on the broken glass. "Hey no look at me Y/N don't space out on me, this is important. You are important. What happened to you that made you need to do this to yourself?"

"Nothing" I said defensively. A lie, of course but he was already looking at me like a stranger never mind after I told him about my life before I had run into them after I had an unfortunate run in with an angry werewolf.

"There has to be something," he sighed "you're cutting yourself, deep too. You're barely eating, please just explain why. I want to understand. Maybe if you tell us what's going on with you we will be able to help you better."

"I. Don't. Need. To. Get. Better. There's. Nothing. Wrong. With. Me."

"When I was cooling off do you want to know all I could think about? Was how little I know about you, I mean I know what your favourite food is and how you have a habit of falling asleep reading and you have short temper. But I don't even know what state you're from Y/N, I don't even know your last name! I've seen that picture you have of your family on your dresser. A sister and a father you've never mentioned. Why Y/N?"

I hadn't told my last name, not wanting any connection to tie me to my mother whatsoever. When Sam had asked that night we met I had said "Y/N, just Y/N". I had Dean get me a fake ID within the first month of me moving in with them with my last name being Winchester. I could recall the picture of me and my sister sat on my dad's lap our faces glowing with happiness. The picture was taken on my sister's birthday a month before she had been diagnosed with leukaemia and given a year to live.

She hadn't even made it to 6 months. "Cancers funny like that" the Doctors had said. I hadn't found anything funny about it.

My dad's arms were wrapped around our waists. My mother was next to me in the photo, one arm slung over my shoulder. I had since ripped her from the photo only thing remaining a cold and seemingly disembodied left arm draped over my shoulder her gold wedding ring catching in the sunlight.

"You never asked"

"I'm asking now"

"It's my dad and my sister it was her birthday we had a great time, I kept the photo because I want to remember what it was like back then, to have a family. Nothing more too it"

"Y/N-" Dean began.

"Dean" I began cutting him off. "I need to pee can we carry this on later" I climbed down from the counter and made my way to the door. I was halfway down the corridor before Dean caught up with me and grabbed my arm turning me around.

"You need to pee? You're going to be using your my bathroom. You're not using yours till I have searched your rooms and found whatever it is you use to hurt yourself"

"Is that really necessary?"

"Absolutely"

"Fine" I said, giving an exasperated sigh.

We were both silent as we made our way to Deans room, it only two rooms away from mine I could make a run for it. I needed to cut. The desperation had caused adrenaline to be pumped through my veins.

The boys finding out about my self-harm had caused my anxiety to skyrocket, my urge to cut had returned with vengeance voices pounding through my head, making conscience unbearable. I wanted to cut… No, I NEEDED to cut.

Dean seeing where I was looking and knowing me all too well said "Don't even think about it kiddo" as he pulled me into his room...

Dean's bathroom was plain as I checked the cupboard I came up empty. He had the logic to remove his razor he used for shaving before he had let me into the bathroom, he had also patted me down which I thought was a bit extreme but I had held my tongue. There was nothing in the cupboard besides towels and a sneaky bottle to gin which I had chuckled at before taking a large gulp.

I needed to find something sharp.

I could break his toothbrush, in the hope that it would be sharp enough to do the job.

I splashed cold water on my face trying to calm myself down. My heart beat out of my chest with little food in my stomach to keep it going at such a fast rate, at this rate I was going to faint. I looked up from the sink, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

...I could break the mirror.

I would have to be quick, Dean would hear and come bursting through the doors but that would take him a good 20 seconds to break down the locked door. 20 seconds was enough time. I just needed one cut, I told myself, one cut was all I'd need to be calm again.

My decision was made.

I straightened up as I balled my hand into a fist preparing to punch. As my fist connected with the mirror I felt a stinging sensation through my knuckles

"Y/N what are you doing? Open the door" the door handle rattled.

I picked up a broken shard to glass and put it in my pocket for later as Dean would no doubt find my beloved and bloodied razors. Picking up another sharp shard of the mirror, I pressed it into the delicate skin on my non bandaged wrist, careful not to do it too close to the visible veins at the top of my arm and I pressed down then dragged the broken mirror across my hot skin, red blood began to pool out of the cut.

"OPEN THE DOOR NOW, DAMMIT Y/N" Dean yelled.

One cut was not enough, I had decided as I began moving up my arm as I made 4 more cuts each flowing with red blood, my head fell back as I let the calm, the tranquillity pour over me. A moment of peace without the voices. The blood now trickling down my arm hinting the sink and the floor. I leaned against the wall sliding down it so I was sitting on the cold tiles as a sense of euphoria took over me.

I was so out of it I didn't notice when Dean busted through the door. I as vaguely aware of him yelling for Sam to come quickly. Before he wrapped his arms around me cocooning my in his warmth. "Oh Y/N," Dean said as he looked at my arms, grabbing a towel and began to apply pressure to the wounds. Tears began to fall from my eyes.

Sam ran into the room, his eyes widening as he saw the blood dripping from by arm and the now blood drenched towel. Dean lifted the towel for a second peering at my cuts he closed his eyes a single tear falling down his face "Jesus Y/N, what did you do?"

"I'm sorry" I said. I wasn't sure if I meant it. But the pain in his eyes was enough for me to say those words.

"Dean does… does she need stitches?" Sam's weak voice came from the doorway.

"I don't think so, I think if I keep applying pressure she'll be fine." Dean replied, his voice strained.

"I'm sorry"

I was still experiencing the hit of endorphins, I don't know if it's the euphoria that is making everything glow of the bright yellow lights hanging from the ceiling.

"You have to stop Y/N," Dean said, his voice cracking. "

Then, without thinking I said "I promise" as I looked Deans straight in the eye and made a promise I had no intent to keep. Maybe I saw the pain in his eyes, maybe I wanted just wanted them both to go back to believing that I was fine and that I didn't need the constant supervision that I would I have to face from this moment on.

It didn't matter anyways, words never changed anything. Promises meant nothing till you kept them and no promises would change the thoughts that keep driving me to this. I silently apologised to Dean for the hurt I would cause.

THE END OF CHAPTER 4

Get me posting 2 chapters in 2 days AND a long chapter too! *pats self on the back* I'm going away on holiday tomorrow but I'll hopefully have WiFi so maybe posting again maybe? I have plans for the next two chapters so hopefully, fingers crossed. When I go back to school hopefully I'll be able to get a better schedule together. XD

Do you want Castiel to make an appearance?

YOUR COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPREICATED THANK YOU

Always Keep Fighting and remember that You Are Not Alone.


	5. Chapter 5

**As always there is a trigger warning for self-harm and other self-destructive behaviour**

 **NOTE: Y/N is kind of becoming her own character, particularly in the next chapters.**

The next day I woke up on the sofa, my head leaning against Deans chest, his arm slung lazily around my back. There was a throw covering me that I don't remember being there when we had nodded off while watching Game of Thrones and another throw was covering Dean. My arms felt stiff and Deans gentle snores were the only sound in the bunker until the were meet by Sam's heavy morning stumble as he emerged from the corridor down from his room. When he saw that I was awake he gave me a small smile "Morning, Y/N how you feeling?"

I left out a small groan before telling him that I was tired.

"Ha, me too. Yesterday was a long day" he chuckled, a small sleepy smile crawled across his face. I hesitate afraid this is the moment Sam cracks and yells at me for how stupid I am. But the rage doesn't come. Sam is nothing but understanding. I feel immediately guilty for assuming he would jump at the chance to yell at me.

Sam, understanding this, said, "You know if you ever need to talk about it you can with me, I promise I won't get angry. You don't have to be scared to tell me the truth"

I sighed, Sam deserved my honesty after everything he and Dean had done for me over the years. I thought for a second before speaking, my voice hoarse. "I don't know how to talk about it, I don't know what to say. That's why I never talk about it, I don't know where to start"

"If I asked you questions, maybe that would that help?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"I don't know, maybe," I replied, giving Sam a small encouraging smile, hoping not to disappoint him.

He thought for a second, choosing which question to ask first. Which one he wanted to know the most. "When did you first self-harm?" his voice cracked a little towards the end of the question.

"I think I was 12" I replied coolly, trying to keep my memories of the first time I cut myself at bay. I remember the blood and the knife.

"How often do you…" he looked down at the floor before continuing "self-harm?"

I shrugged "whenever I get the urge I can do it once a day, multiple times a day for weeks then not do it for months afterward depending on how I'm feeling" I try to explain, like everyone else I had good weeks and bad weeks.

Then he asked the million-dollar question _"What was going on when you first self-harmed?"_

"What do you mean?" I asked genuinely confused.

"Like I dunno… can you think of what was going on in your life that would drive to cut yourself? Did you something bad happen that triggered you?"

"I don't remember" Sam open his mouth to demand an answer but I held up a hand to silence him "I honestly don't remember, it was a long time ago and a lot of shit has gone down since then, you cant expect me to remember a reason because that has changed, it changes most time"

"Do you think you could stop hurting yourself?" Sam whispered. He knew what I was going to say, he was afraid of it.

I swallowed "I-"

I broke off as I felt Dean begin to stir beside me and I looked back to Sam and he gave me a look that said we would finish this conversation later.

I tried to contain my fear about what later would entail as I nudged Dean back into the real world.

 _Later on in the kitchen…_

I was cleaning up the broken glass from when Dean had smashed yesterday. I heard footsteps enter the room, I could tell without looking up that his Dean, his heavy footing giving him away. I didn't look up or acknowledge him in anyway. Despite us falling asleep together, there was still this unsaid tension between us.

"You don't have to clean that up Y/N, I smashed it I should be doing that"

"It's fine, I don't mind." I say.

Dean sighed and sat down on a stool watching me thoughtfully. "I heard what you said to Sam earlier when you thought I was snoozing. I'm calling bullshit you know what happened to you! You know and you're just to plain stubborn to let us know anything about you." His voice filled with anger. We stared at each other. His green eyes piercing mine. I felt as though he could see into my soul. When I couldn't bear it any longer I looked away, I never liked it when Dean or Sam got angry at you. It reminded me too much of home _– no my mother's home, not mine this is my home._

"That's not true" I reply defensively, my voice rising to match his. Dean and I were too alike for our own good, we both quick to anger. If Sam was here he would balance us out, he was always the mediator to our fights. I took a deep breath in, trying to calm myself. My anger would only escalate the situation, I could still get out of this without talking about anything to serious if I played my cards right.

"Oh yeah, I don't know where you are from, I don't know your parents names. I don't know what happened that made you end up as a homeless 17 year old fighting demons in New York?"

"No one has to talk about the bad things that have happened to them" I say quietly, hoping he would let it go. The past was exactly that, in the past, talking about it didn't make this any better.

Deans harsh, angry face softened into one of sympathy "Of course no one has to talk about the bad things in their life but you should," he took a deep breath "because its killing you and that's not right. It's not okay that you feel that you need to do this to yourself just to get through the day. I don't want you to hurt so badly you have to take away the pain inside your head with physical pain," he sighed and looked down at his hand holding my wrist "I never want you to be in pain."

In my head I was screaming to hug him, to talk, to finally express what I've wanted to say for years.

But I couldn't, I didn't have the guts to be open and honest with him, with anyone. I was a closed book, that could not be read by anyone.

"I'm fine and I promised you yesterday I was done with all of that"

"Then how come I don't believe that?" he demanded. I looked away at that, I never intended to keep that promise, I liked cutting, I enjoyed the pain and relief it brought. It had been my way of surviving for so long that I couldn't even begin to imagine what I would do without hurting myself.

I spat back, I was livid now. My eyes now focussing on the corner of them, I couldn't look at Dean when we were talking about this.

I pulled my arm out of his grasp and turned away from him and ran away, down the narrow halls of the bunker to my room and slammed the door shut. I jumped on my bed and began sobbing into my pillow. Why did nobody understand?

A couple of minutes later there was a knock at the door and Sam entered my room carrying a tray with two meals and two beers balanced on top. "Dean sent me, we are not letting you out of our sight till he believes you aren't going to cut yourself anymore."

I groaned and turned my face back to my pillow. "Does my promises not mean anything to him?" I grumbled, unhappy that I was still being watched every damn second.

"I don't believe you either Y/N" Sam said quietly.

Silence fell on the room as Sam sat next to me on the bed and opened his well-read copy of Game of Thrones. I turned so I was on my back and looked at him. I remember how young he looked all those years ago when we met. I remember liking his eyes because they changed their colour all the time, sometimes they were brown and other times they were green but there was always kindness in them.

I needed to pee but I didn't have the energy or maybe I am just to damn lazy to be normal and stand up so I just rolled off the bed and collapsed onto the floor and moaned at the hard impact.

"If you are going in there to cut just know that I removed the mirror and your razors while you were sleeping" He said without looking up from his book.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled myself up and walked into my bathroom. It was fancier – _cleaner_ \- than the boys bathroom, I had given what Dean had jokingly called a "women's touch" before I had smacked him one. My bathroom smelt of lavender and heaven while Deans smelt of what was probably mould and his cologne which was so concentrated in the air you choked on it. I noticed that the mirror had indeed been removed and all my razors in my cupboard had been nicked. I had a secret stash of razors hidden somewhere in the bathroom but I didn't have time to pull them out from behind the loose tile on the wall, that was if Sam hadn't found them already.

 _Well fuck me._

When I left the bathroom Sam looked at me, his eyes carefully assessing me.

"You never answered my question," Sam said absently, turning back to his book.

"Which one? You ask a lot of questions" I say calmly, lying back down on the bed.

"Do you think you can stop cutting yourself?" he said, his voice so quiet I wasn't sure he wanted me to hear, didn't want me to give you an answer.

I felt this huge sinking feeling in my stomach. I wouldn't lie, he'd probably see through it anyway that is if he didn't know the truth already.

"No Sam, this is a part of me. I can't stop. I don't control it, it controls me"

Ummmmm… Well I'm back, kind of no promises. I have exams and coursework this year(I'm in year 13 so I'm shitting bricks about school because I have to get into university ARGH) If you want to you can check on my other two fanfics they are both about self-harm because that's all I can write about apparently XD.

AS ALWAYS YOUR COMMENTS AND FEEDBACK MAKE MY DAY AND ARE APPREICATED

Always Keep Fighting and remember You Are Not Alone.


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